


Glory, Mistakes, and the Journey Between

by Diary



Category: James Bond (Movies), Kingsman (Movies), London Spy, Sherlock (TV), Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy (2011)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - James Bond Fusion, Alternate Universe - Kingsman Fusion, Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, Alternate Universe - Sherlock (TV) Fusion, Alternate Universe - Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy Fusion, Angst with a Happy Ending, Awkward Conversations, Bechdel Test Pass, Canon Gay Character, Conversations, Disturbing Themes, Domestic Fluff, Dreams, Families of Choice, Friendship, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Mother-Son Relationship, Multiple Crossovers, Mystery Character(s), Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 08:29:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5998909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diary/pseuds/Diary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crossover. AU. “Only you would label a housekeeper as a mere accountant.” Complete.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Glory, Mistakes, and the Journey Between

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own any of the fandoms and/or non-original characters contained within.

He’d never understood how a person could truly want to die until now.

There’s still a person around, and so, he can’t cry, and if he opens his mouth to tell them to leave, he will.

The person kneels down, and he sees it’s the odd one.

Well, anyone who posts an ad saying- and anyone who answers one- This one is just odder than him and the others combined.

Everyone obeyed and was quiet, almost soundless, but he gets the impression this one is normally this way.

This one never touched him. He sort of watched at certain points, but mainly, he was just there, easy to miss if eyes weren’t poised directly on him.

He’s a fit bloke, not the type Danny imagines would need to answer an ad to get anonymous sex he didn’t even have. Even if he likes watching, surely, based on the quality of his suit, he can buy good porn or find a proper sex club.

He cocks his head, and somehow, Danny just knows and wearily tells him, “You can talk, now.”

“I’m not sure what to do,” the man says.

Yet, he looks somewhat like a little boy in this instance, and if laughing wouldn’t lead to crying, Danny would.

He’s nineteen, and he’s never felt less like a man, but no child would- if this was done to a child, they’d be a victim, maybe a survivor, but he’s neither. He made his choices, and he’s not sure he’ll survive them.

This man, boy, whatever he is, has no right to-

“That makes two of us,” is what comes out.

“Look at me.”

The tone is calm and vaguely commanding, and he finds himself obeying.

“What’s your name?”

“Danny,” he answers. “Danny Holt. What’s yours?”

“Do you have a thermometer?”

“A-” Hoping this isn’t sex-related and half-expecting it to be, he shakes his head.

“Is it okay for me to touch your forehead?”

“What? Yeah, sure, whatever.”

The touch is cool and impersonal. “You don’t appear to have a fever. Can I take your pulse?”

He shrugs.

For a brief second, there’s hesitation, and then, the same cool fingers are wrapped around his wrist. “Look at me.”

He does.

“How old are you, Danny?”

“Nineteen.” No point in lying, he decides.

“Do you know what drugs you took last night?”

“Not all of them,” he dully responds.

There’s a nod but no change in the man’s expression. “Do you have someone trustworthy I could call for you?”

Scottie pops into his head, but he can’t- A few conversations at a club don’t-

Even if Scottie would help, he’s one of the few genuinely nice people Danny’s met, and he can’t bear the thought of seeing such disappointment in Scottie’s face.

“Danny,” the man prompts.

“I’ll take a cab,” he mumbles. “I’m not going to be rejected over the phone.”

Puzzlement crosses the man’s face, but all he says is, “I’ll come with you.”

…

By the time they arrive, he has everything he needs to say planned.

There’s a brief look of something he can’t identity between Scottie and the man, but then, Scottie looks at him. “What happened? Are you okay?”

He’s vaguely aware of the man asking and being directed to the loo, and then, he’s finally crying.

Scottie holds him until he can force himself to focus on his breath and grab some semi-rational part inside himself.

“’m so sorry.”

“Whatever it is, you can tell me,” Scottie says. “I promise you, nothing will shock me.”

And so, it spills out.

“Alright,” Scottie says with a heavy sigh. “We’re going to hospital. Don’t think of arguing. Now, get yourself some water. Only water. And I’ll go get your- friend.”

“He wasn’t one of them,” he manages to say. “Or, he showed up, but mainly, he was just there. Didn’t touch me until this morning, and he asked and just checked me for fever and took my pulse.”

“Get some water,” Scottie repeats.

…

After endless questions, forms, blood and saliva tests, and one urine test, he finds himself sitting in a private room with an IV in his arm.

In many ways, the doctor reminds him of Scottie. She’s an older, plumb woman with kind, non-judgemental eyes and plaits resting on her scalp. “Have you heard of PEP, sweetheart?”

He nods. “Post-exposure prophylaxis. It can help prevent HIV infection after exposure.”

She smiles. “Good. From what I can tell right now, you’re fine. I want to keep you on the IV for a few more hours, and you need to eat. However, the key to that is ‘right now’. Because of the high risk you were exposed to, I’d strongly recommend you get started on PEP. If you want, I can explain the potential advantages and side effects of this.”

He knows he’s lucky to have gotten her, and he’s been lashed out at too many times when other people were going through a bad time.

Still, he finds himself replying sharper than he intended, “Why are you all trained to do that? I know how horribly I messed up. Just say, ‘the high risk you stupidly exposed yourself by making these horrible choices.’”

Taking his hand, she calmly answers, “We’re trained to do that, as you say, for legal and funding reasons. I’m a doctor, sweetheart. Obviously, I can’t go into detail for confidentiality reasons, but I have seen many people who have made far worse choices than you have. Some of them were a lot like you, lost souls trying to make their way with little-to-no help from good people. Some of them had illness taking control of them. Some of them were despicable people.”

“Your exposure was high-risk, and I’d like to help you try to negate that. I won’t lie and say that it doesn’t matter to me when the despicable people need help, but I do believe doctors are at high risk of thinking themselves akin to gods and that that should be avoided. Therefore, I help whoever comes through these doors as best I can with as little personal judgement towards them as I can.”

He fidgets. “I’m sorry.”

“I have tough skin.” Squeezing his hand, she asks, “Should I continue?”

“I have a general idea,” he answers. “How soon can you start the first dose?”

…

In the waiting room, Scottie and the mystery man are playing chess.

Seeing him, Scottie stands up. “Ah, Danny. How long will you be saying?”

“A few hours,” he answers. “Dr Maisel wanted to put me in a room, but I promised her I’d stay and just sit down if I needed to.”

The man looks as though he might argue, but Scottie gives him a small smile. “Well, then, can I get you anything? Aside from cigarettes, that is. I’m sorry, but I’m afraid you’re going to have to wait until you leave for that.”

“No. Thank you. Uh, both of you.” He smiles at the man.

The man simply nods.

“If you give me some time, I can pay you back for the cab fare,” he adds. “Sorry, I didn’t even realise at the time.”

“There’s no need.” The man stands, makes several moves on the board, and says, “I need to go, now. I hope you’ll be okay.”

As he walks away, Danny starts to protest, but Scottie orders, “Sit down, Danny."

“Did you know him?”

“No. He’s an interesting fellow, though. Says he works for investment bankers. Wouldn’t give me his name. I suppose that’s understandable, considering.”

He rubs his eyes. “I can’t tell you what this means to me.”

Scottie puts an arm around him. “Whatever happens, you aren’t alone. I promise you that. At the same time, however, I’m an old man, and I’ve buried and watched the self-destruction of too many. I suspect I’ll see even more before I die. Please, please, I beg you, don’t be one of them.”

Looking over, he hears himself promising, “I won’t. I swear it.”

He’s tired, sore, aching, and feels physically unbalanced, but inside, he’s surprised to realise he’s calm and truly means the words.

…

Danny’s heading home when he sees the man again.

Still in a sharp suit, and now, no longer suffering from drugs, drink, and the emotional turmoil of the stupidest thing he’s ever done, Danny feels himself reacting to the body being housed in the suit.

The man goes into a high-priced café, and Danny tells himself to just keep walking.

He’s still telling himself this when the man comes out with a bag and Styrofoam cup.

Before he can decide what to do, the man spots him and stops.

For a long moment, they simply stare, and though he can’t deny the beauty of the eyes, they belong to the sort of people he tries to avoid: They hide secrets, and they’re used to calculating and discarding anything and anyone who doesn’t measure up.

“Hello.”

Somehow, they’ve come together.

“Hello,” he echoes.

“Are you okay?”

Sighing, he nods. “Yeah, thanks to you and Scottie. I’m negative, and I have new job now. Oh,” he says. Digging his wallet out, he finds just enough to cover the cab fare and wonders, before he can stop himself, if this might be fate. “Here.”

“I-” The man stares.

“Just take it, please,” he urges.

Slowly, the man does.

“I never got your name.”

“My name is Alex. Turner is my surname.”

“Nice to meet you. Obviously, you already know I’m Danny. Danny Holt. It- it’s nice to see you again,” he offers.

“One of my superiors is in town,” Alex announces. Holding up the bag and cup, he continues, “This is for him. I need to get back soon. But if you agree, I’d like to talk to you, later.”

“Sure,” he quickly agrees. Searching his pockets, he asks, “Have you got a pen? And some paper? Maybe you could add me to your phone, or I could add you to mine?”

He’s taken aback by Alex’s unquestionably fond expression.

“Numbers, Danny, I have no problem with.”

…

“Sorry,” he tells Scottie. “I’ll stop, now.”

Scottie shakes his head. “I don’t mind. I’m not so old that I don’t remember the feeling.” He takes a slow sip. “Just promise me you’ll be careful. Before you were hurt, you gave your heart away so easily. That isn’t a failing or a weakness, but- be careful. I can see how close you are. Try to make sure he deserves it, and if you think he doesn’t, take a step back. Whether it feels like it or not, there are others.”

“It seems like a weakness, sometimes,” he admits. “A failing. I see people alone and lonely and scared, and I’ve been all that- but I can’t help think it won’t always be like that for me. I’ll find someone, and we’ll love each other. Maybe it won’t always be easy or happy, but it’ll be wonderful. I have to believe that. Except, those people who are more realistic or cynical or whatever the right term is, well, most of them aren’t messed up like I am.”

The silence stretches.

Then, letting out a soft sound, Scottie says, “For all you know, they’re just better at hiding it. If you want my opinion, yes, you’re occasionally naïve when it comes to people. You want so badly to see the best that, sometimes, you’ll convince yourself it’s there even when everything points to it not. But your real problem is that the mistakes you can forgive in others you have trouble forgiving in yourself.”

“Try to take heed of this quote, Danny:  ‘You are not damaged goods just because you made a few mistakes. Look in the mirror and remind yourself what you are and what you are not. You are not someone else’s opinion of you.’”

“What about you,” he asks.

Scottie looks over in surprise.

“It’s just- if you’re messed up, too, you’re good at hiding it, but sometimes, you seem so sad, and I don’t know why or what to do or if there’s anything I can do.”

Chuckling wryly, Scottie smiles. “I’ve lived through times one has to experience to truly understand, and I hope to God you never do. Perhaps, someday, I’ll tell you some of my darker days, but for now, there’s nothing you need to do, other than to take care of yourself. Cheers, my friend.”

Clinking his glass against Scottie’s, he echoes, “Cheers.”

…

He’s on his third cup of tea in the corner of a café with thankfully reasonably priced stuff when he finally brings himself to say, “So, we’ve been talking about me for ages, not that I mind the ages part. Look, I know things involving banks and investments and the like can involve a lot of secrecy, and the truth is, even if they didn’t, I’d probably find it boring and not understand most of it. So, I promise, I won’t try to ask about any of that. But tell me stuff about you, yeah?”

“What do you want to know?”

 _Everything_ , he realises.

No, best not go with that answer, he tells himself.

“Why’d you come ‘round that night?”

It would have been better to go with your first impulse, runs through his head. Why can’t I ever learn to-

Yet, Alex’s expression doesn’t change besides taking on a slightly contemplative look. “I was curious.”

Everything in him is screaming not to, but Danny reckons there’s no point in pretending he’s not going to eventually say the wrong thing. Might as well get it over with.

“That- that isn’t much of an answer. I mean, I admire your honesty, and I’m thrilled that you haven’t already walked out, but: Curious about me? Guys? Women? Not that there were any that night, but there could have been.”

_You just felt like watching a trainwreck happening up close and personal?_

Oh, thank God, he thinks upon realising he didn’t actually say _that_ aloud.

He’s pretty sure he didn’t.

The realisation Alex might be able to keep a straight face even against such a question makes him twitchy.

“All of it, I suppose,” Alex answers. “I was working when I came across your advertisement, and I found myself wondering.”

“But you didn’t join in.”

He concludes beating his head on the table is, unfortunately, not much of an option.

“No,” Alex agrees.

“Okay, I’m changing the subject now. My parents were awful. I dunno why I didn’t leave home years ago, but I didn’t. Overall, they’re not bad people. They just- weren’t good parents. Maybe I wasn’t that good of a son, but I honestly tried. They- it doesn’t matter. What about your parents?”

“They’re dead,” is the mild reply. “I was closer to my mother, but she and I weren’t very close. I went to university when I was fifteen.”

“Oh, what was that like?”

…

When they leave the café, he tries, “Are you- That is- I- I’ve run out of questions.”

“Ask me. Please,” is Alex’s quiet response.

“Are you gay?”

There’s more silence, and this time, he gets the feeling Alex is uncomfortable.

“Or bi? Any other label that involves you possibly liking men?”

“I- I’ve dedicated my life to numbers. People find me odd, and it’s easier to let them than try to pursue anything.”

“So, that’s a no on people, men and women alike, then?”

He thinks he heard a term once- asexual? aromantic? He’s pretty sure there was an ‘A’ in it.

Abruptly, Alex says, “No.”

They stop walking.

“My experience is extremely limited. Without more, I can’t put myself definitively in one category. But the urges I’ve had have always, as far as I remember, been towards men.”

Danny tentatively smiles. “That’s alright. Most of what I’ve done, I’m not ashamed of, but there’s probably such a thing as too much experience.”

Anyone who has problems with the one-night stands he’s had isn’t worth his time, but when he finds someone special, he’s going to have to tell them about the ad. For all he tries to tell himself, if they really are special, they’ll still love him, part of him is scared.

They continue walking until they come to a building with a security camera. It zooms right on him, and he feels a bit offended.

“The people I work for supply it,” Alex says. “Security is a concern.”

Danny just manages to stop himself from doing something childish (sticking his tongue out), something rude (certain finger gestures), or both at it.

“Right,” he says. “So, I’d like to see you again, but if you don’t want to see me, that’s fine. You have my number, yeah?”

“I would. Like to see you again.”

Danny grins.

Alex extends his hand, and feeling slightly surreal, Danny shakes it.

…

There’s a ring, and Alex looks out through the security monitor.

He buzzes the door open, takes his laptop, and goes to meet his guests.

“Mister Turner,” the man greets.

The woman takes his coat and umbrella, slips off her heels, and puts them all in the closet.

“Sir,” Alex replies. “Agent A.”

“Apologies for the unannounced visit,” the man says. “A code has been intercepted, and I need it decoded as soon as possible.”

“Right away, sir." To Agent A, he says, “The charger’s in its usual place, ma’am.”

She wanders off.

Sitting down, Alex opens his laptop and listens to the numbers given.

“I was going to tell you tomorrow,” the man says, “but since I’m already here: You’re to be relieved of wrangler duty and put back in accounting. Mrs Turner argued vehemently on your behalf, but unless your objections are more compelling than hers, I would suggest you not waste your time appealing.”

“I won’t, sir,” Alex answers. “I initially requested I not be transferred.”

“Really? I never would have guessed from looking at your performance history. Well, at any rate, good. We can get plenty of hackers and psychology majors to achieve the results you have been, but you were the only one in accounting who wasn’t constantly demanding or complaining about something, and with Shelton deflecting, it’s incredibly short-staffed.”

Looking up, Alex turns the laptop so the man can read the code.

“Oh, bother. And of course, now is when he chooses to go to El Salvador. If I cut the power to your flat, will it cause any major inconvenience?”

“No, sir, but if you’d rather, I will make sure Agent A is delivered safely home.”

“That would likely be the preferable solution. Very well.”

Retrieving his coat and umbrella, the man leaves.

…

Sticking his hand out the car window and enjoying the feeling of wind rushing against his skin, Danny says, “Scottie works at Whitehall. I’m sure exactly what he does.” Glancing over, he adds, “Sometimes, I think he might have worked for MI6 or whatever its equivalent was back in the day. A proper spook.”

Something flickers across Alex’s face. “That’s interesting.”

“The thing, I’d like for the three of us to get together soon, if that’s okay with you. He’s the closest friend I’ve ever had, and- whatever you are, it’s starting to look like I’m important to you.”

“Am I not important to you?"

He can’t stop himself from chuckling. “Of course, you are. That morning, I was at the lowest I’d ever been, and you- you did more than just help me. And after you’d done that and we met again, I wouldn’t have been surprised if you wanted absolutely nothing to do with me. Instead, we drank tea and talked for hours. None of that means you necessarily reciprocate, I know, but call it a hunch, I’m guessing you don’t take many people for country walks.”

“I’ve never taken anyone.”

Danny smiles so hard it’s slightly painful.

“I’m sorry,” Alex adds.

Confusion overtakes him. “For what?”

“For how low you were that morning. During the night, I wondered what you must have been feeling and thinking, you didn’t seem enthusiastic, but I didn’t particularly concern myself too much with it. I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” Danny says, “don’t be. If you’d tried to help me that night, I would have kicked you out. No one could have stopped me. I’d chucked myself into the abyss, and until I realised how deep inside I was, there was no way anyone could have pulled me out.”

An unpleasant thought occurs to him. 

“From that first day, you’ve always been honest with me. So, just tell me: Are you in my life right now because you feel guilty?”

“No,” Alex answers. “I’ll probably always feel guilty. Emotions, I’ve found, don’t always go away once you’ve categorised them and changed the factors that originally caused them. But growing up, I was forced to spend most of my time around people who were either cruel or indifferent to me. Even the ones who were kind, I could see in their eyes that I grated on them. Once I started my job, I resolved that, outside of it, I wouldn’t spend time with people who made me feel bad.”

He nods. “I think you and Scottie would like each other. Just, don’t tell him about my MI5 theory, alright?”

There’s an uncomfortable feeling both Scottie and Alex categorise him as ‘a bit too young to handle like I would the proper adults in my life’, and the worst part isn’t the fact he can’t exactly deny there’s some validity to it. No, the worst part is he might be dead or even worse off than he was after the ad if they didn’t operate under such thoughts and hadn’t had enough kindness to take charge and help him navigate through all he needed to do.

“Six,” Alex corrects.

He looks over.

“You suspect he was once part of the MI6 branch of SIS.”

Shrugging, Danny smiles. “Right. You can tell how well-formed my suspicion is.”

“I’d be happy to meet him again whenever convenient.”

…

When they sit down to eat, he says, “You know, you can ask me questions, if you want. I don’t mind.”

Alex smiles at him, and he knows he’s gone and fallen for someone unsuitable, again.

He thinks it might be progress he’s now fallen for someone too good for him rather than vice versa, but it doesn’t feel like it, and he remembers he used to hate the phrase ‘too good for someone’.

“The people I work for are inscrutable,” Alex says. “And you give so much information so freely I haven’t yet felt the need to. It’s a nice change.”

He considers making the claim he can be inscrutable, but since they both know better-

“Thank you for taking me with you today. It’s beautiful out here.”

“Thank you for agreeing to come.”

Nodding, he catches Alex’s eyes. “Look, I know, looking at my track record, it isn’t much, and I’m not in any way suggesting you ever will, but if you do ever need anything or just someone, I’ll try my best to help you. I promise.”

Raw, breath-taking emotion fills Alex’s eyes, and Danny wonders if this is the first time anyone ever said such a thing to him.

“Thank you.”

…

When he arranges for them all to meet, Scottie asks, “Have you made a move, yet?”

“How did you know?”

Scottie gives him a look he’d protest against if he thought he had any sort of defence. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you’re being a little more careful in certain aspects of your life, but since when have you ever hesitated when it comes to matters of the heart?”

“Since I’ve found I out that apparently, I’m the sort of person who would- I look back on that night, and I don’t recognise that person. I can’t figure out who in the hell that was, and the thing is, I know that’s a cop out. Whether I like it or not, I was that person, and I still am.”

It comes out too bitter, but he can’t stop himself.

“The laws about drugs in this country are stupid,” and yet, ironically, they’ve also helped him stay afloat financially in the past, “and if two or, even more than two, people want to get together, have some fun, and part with no names, that’s fine. It can be fun and freeing. But that night wasn’t about being a little too wild, it was about letting people I didn’t give a damn about and who didn’t give a damn about me do all these dangerous things. For me and them both. I worry, what if one of them wasn’t as lucky as me? And I- I don’t want to be the type who- even if the sex is just about release, it shouldn’t be like that.”

Slumping down, he glances over to Scottie looking at him with kind, sad eyes.

“Are you done?”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise. I wish there was something I could say. I can think of many things, in fact, that I could. But I’m afraid, whether either of us likes it, you’ve become- comfortable, in a way- in these dark places. You’re going to have work out who you really and make peace with that all on your own, my dear boy. I’d tell you that, instead of hoping the world will tell you who you are, you must tell the world who you are, but that might be somewhat counter-productive, seeing how I’d likely agree with the world more than you right now.”

“I imagine the world probably has a worse opinion of me than I do right now,” he says. “But I know you still have a good opinion of me.”

Patting his hand, Scottie says, “That will never change.”

He doesn’t ask how Scottie can say such a thing with such surety.

…

After dinner with Scottie, he and Alex go to the beach.

Wading into the water, he kneels down and lets his hand feel around for shells. “When I asked you why you came around that night, you said you were curious. And also, you had very limited experience. If you don’t want to answer, I understand, but have you done anything else about that those two things? Probably not like that, obviously, but different ways?”

“Do you believe you’ll find someone?”

“Yes,” he automatically answers. “I don’t know when or how, and I know it might not be easy, but it turns out, I’ve never stopped believing I will. There has to be someone for me out there. Even when I can’t see it, I know that, to someone, I’m everything they’ve been missing.”

 _Oh_ , goes through his head.

If he thought Alex would understand, Danny would thank him then and there.

“I could go on about theoretical and probabilities,” Alex sits down, “and there’s this look you’d get on your face. You get it, sometimes, when you don’t quite understand what I’m saying but don’t mind. Other times, you get this look, and I know you’re sad for me. I much prefer the former, but the truth is, I can’t imagine what that must feel like. For once, the numbers are on my side, as you might say, but I still can’t.”

Getting out of the water, Danny comments, “Yeah, I imagine I do have that look on my face. Sorry.” Sitting down next to Alex, he continues, “Why? Is that too personal to ask? Why?”

Alex looks over and quickly looks away.

He’s not quick enough, though, and Danny lets out an, “Oh.”

Putting a hand on Alex’s arm and hoping dry cleaning will take care of the stained sleeve, he doesn’t let go. “If there’s a reason, fine, but please, don’t pretend you don’t know. I only knew about me until now, but you- you knew about both of us.”

“The answer to that-” Alex doesn’t continue.

“Well,” he prods. “Just tell me. I am negative, and I swear, I haven’t done anything like that night again. Whatever else you can say about me, you know that I don’t lie. Not to you, not to Scottie. Or I really hope you do.”

“I do."

“Well, then,” he persists.

“At school, I was old. At university, I was young. I’ve always been out of step with the people around me. In the end, I left it so late, I gave up. I told myself I was all about the mind. I started playing the role more and more. I didn’t need anyone. That’s what I told myself. I didn’t want anyone.” A look comes over his face. “Being alone has a rhythm, like running. It’s when you stop that you realise how tired you are.”

Danny takes this in. “I’d guessed you hadn’t slept with guys. I’d thought maybe you’d slept with a few women.”

Alex shakes his head.

“I won’t pressure you,” he promises. “If I’m not the one you want to take that step with, I understand. But could you just tell me why exactly this stopped you from- especially when you knew I want you back.”

“It’s not- How do you admit you’ve never had a relationship? Who wants to hear? When they do, who wants to stay?”

“I do,” Danny answers.

When Alex looks over, Danny sees everything important shining clearly within his eyes.

“Would it be alright if I kissed you,” he asks.

Alex nods.

…

When they get to his flat, he says, “If you want to come in, we can just sleep.”

“Do you not want to-” Alex falters.

He laughs. “I do want to. Don’t doubt that. It’s just, we can wait. For as long as you want, for as long as you need. I’d rather have you, safe and happy, than- that’s more important than anything.”

“I’ve waited long enough,” is Alex’s quiet reply.

Danny studies him for a long moment. “Okay.”

…

He’s been wanting, dreaming, even, of something like this since puberty started, but now- he’s a bit scared at how special this is, and he desperately hopes it was just as special for Alex.

Scottie would probably repeat something about him being comfortable with the darkness.

There are exceptions, but generally, everyone deserves to be happy. They deserve to feel special.

It’s just, for all his belief it’d happen to him one day, he doesn’t know of many estate boys who’ve dabbled in drugs and had unsafe sex who end up meeting someone special who seems to think they’re worth something and shares such an intimate part of themselves they’ve never shared with anyone else before.

Or, he concedes, he’s never heard of _any_ , even in books or movies.

It’s like Alex is trusting him, as if he’s decided, yes, I’ve seen this stupid little boy almost destroy himself, but I don’t think of him as a stupid little boy, and I don’t think he’ll hurt me if I give him the chance.

Drifting in and out of sleep and feeling Alex’s warm chest rising and falling against him, the thought suddenly intrudes, _He was a virgin, and he’s never been on an actual date with someone. I was probably the first person he’s even kissed. It wouldn’t be fair to ask him to limit himself._

He’s always believed in soulmates, but he can imagine Alex doesn’t. The maths probably doesn’t add up, and from what he’s seen of logical people, they usually can’t see the logic in soulmates the way he can. Arguing doesn’t do much good, because, well, they have logic to argue with, and he has, ‘It is too logical, I just can’t explain why.’

Kissing Alex, he whispers, “Hey.”

Alex snuggles closer.

“Just for right now, could it just be you and me? I won’t see anyone else, and you won’t, either?”

“I’d like that,” is the sleepy reply.

Danny lets happiness and sleep overtake him.

…

Agent A is on Alex’s laptop when he gets home.

“Any luck,” he politely inquires.

She shakes her head. “Your coding is as annoyingly secure as ever.”

“It’s not exactly coding-”

“I don’t care,” is her light response. “One of the old guard will have lunch with you next Thursday at 11:30.”

“Understood. Is there a problem?”

“No. You’ll get a message next week. I’m just here because I cause too much trouble in Cuba.”

“Cuba?” He gives her a wary look.

“It’s the brother,” she dismissively answers. “Or rather, in this instance, it’s the brother’s biographer.”

He relaxes. “Of course.”

When he walks past, she tells him, “You can put the breakfast in the fridge and reheat it.”

“Thank you.”

…

It’s been a tiring day for Danny.

However, his job at the warehouse is good. It pays for his tiny flat and food. Most of his co-workers don’t mind him.

Therefore, if his boss decides to change his job duties for the day and send him out to get biscuits, cupcakes, and fifteen drink orders from various eateries, he’ll do it, even if he has to contend with rude idiots at nearly every place he stops.

At least, this hostess is nice, he reflects.

“I’m sorry, sir,” she says again. “I promise we had the order all ready, but- I honestly don’t know.”

“Hey. It’s alright. These things happen. Thank you for trying to find out what’s happened.”

Her being nice isn’t going to help him much if he has to go back to work without the overly complicated drink orders (what’s so wrong with plain tea and coffee, and what exactly makes juice non-organic?), but at least, he’ll go back without a stomachache on top of his already brewing tension headache.

“If you sit down, I’ll bring you something to drink,” she offers. “On the house.”

He imagines he’s drawing attention by standing near the door. He checks his wallet. “I’ll pay. Some hot chocolate, please.”

“Yes, sir,” she gratefully answers. “Please, follow me.”

She leads him to a table, and he pauses.

He remembers Alex told him about plans for lunch with one of his superiors, but he hadn’t paid attention to the name of the café, and this isn’t good, he knows.

Just don’t see me, and if you do, ignore me, he thinks. It’ll hurt, but I’ll understand.

Alex isn’t out, and in the future, he may have a problem with this, but he doesn’t right now, and showing up when your closeted boyfriend is having lunch with a superior might give the boyfriend ideas and mixed emotions, he knows, and he doesn’t want-

“Danny!”

Alex’s voice is surprised, but his tone and eyes are warm.

“Er, hi. I promise, this is a coincidence. My boss’s daughter got accepted into this Japanese university, and he sent me to get stuff for the party.”

The hostess, bless her, decides to help by adding, “We had the drinks ready, but something’s happened, and we’re trying to sort it out as quickly as possible. Could I get you gentleman a refill?”

Alex’s superior is an older man who, somehow, looks oddly familiar. Giving the hostess a kind smile, he answers, “Some more tea would be lovely, thank you.”

“Right away, sir." To Danny, she says, “And I’ll have your hot chocolate out right away, sir.”

Sitting down, he prays for them to ignore him. If they talk quietly, he won’t be able to hear their conversation.

Should have brought my Walkman, he thinks.

It’s old and broken, but with headphones, he could pretend to be engrossed in music.

Instead, the man smiles politely and reaches over with his hand outstretched. “Hello. I’m Peter Guillam.”

Alex is turned so Danny can’t get a clear look at his face, but his shoulders are slightly tense.

Shaking the hand, he answers, “Nice to meet you. Danny Holt, a mate of Alex’s.”

Guillam looks surprised.

Alex looks over, but Danny can’t decipher the subtle emotions on his face.

“How nice,” Guillam comments. “Perhaps, you can join us sometime in the future.”

The hostess reappears with a tray containing the drinks. “They were in the bread box,” she announces in such an offended tone he suddenly fears for her co-workers. “Only bread is supposed to go in there! Why in the blessed Mary’s name would-”

“Er.” She seems to remember herself. “I’m very sorry, sir, and I assure you, action will be taken.”

Catching her eyes, he smiles. “It’s alright. Just don’t get yourself in trouble over it, yeah?”

“But the breadbox,” she half-moans. “We have a designated area for prepared drinks, and where is all of our bread?”

“I don’t know how places like this work, but don’t you have more than one breadbox,” he suggests.

Considering this, she takes a breath. “Right. I’ll just check them when I get a minute. Thank you for being so patient.”

Nodding, he stands up. “I pay up front, yeah?”

“Oh, your hot chocolate-”’

Walking, he says, “That’s okay. I need to get going as soon as possible.”

…

Once Danny is gone, Alex starts, “Sir-”

“In 1972, Control went on a mole hunt,” Guillam smoothly interrupts. “I helped. You know the story, I’m aware. Consider yourself upgraded, Mister Turner; you’re about to get the parts that aren’t _officially_ classified.”                                             

Taking bite of his pasta, he swallows. “I was living with a teacher. Or rather, he was living in my flat. Control warned me that I was soon going to be scrutinised very closely. I took the warning and told this teacher to leave. He went to live with his sister until he could find his own place, and I never saw him again.”

Guillam sighs. “Times have changed. I didn’t love him. I missed having someone more than I really missed him. In some ways, times haven’t changed as much as everyone seems to think. I don’t care who you’re friends with, what you like in bed, or who, Mister Turner.”

“With that being said, you love him. I'm not saying in what way- maybe you don't know yourself. But anyone paying attention could see how much you care about him, and I do mean anyone, not just those who are trained to. So, as one man to another, from someone who’s been in a somewhat similar situation, I’m advising you to either take advantage of the way times have changed- you don’t have to make any announcements, but don’t let him introduce himself as your friend- or do what I did.”

He smiles when the hostess appears with apologies and a refill for his tea, and when she’s gone, he finishes, “As your superior, however, all I have to say is, Thank you for meeting me today, Mister Turner. As always, your dedication and competence is much appreciated.”

They stand up, and he puts the tip on the table.

After he pays and gives the cashier some money to give the hostess, they go outside.

“Thank you, sir.”

“My pleasure.” They shake hands, and he winks. “Take care of yourself, Mister Turner.”

 …

Danny takes Alex kissing him as a good sign.

“About today, at the café-”

“If you don’t object, I’d like you to have lunch with Mister Guillam and me soon,” Alex blurts out.

Danny blinks. “Yeah, of course. Does he- does he know?”

“Yes,” Alex answers. “And I don’t care. He understands. He lived in a time when he couldn’t live openly. But that isn’t why I don’t care. You’re my friend, Danny. You were before we got together. I don’t care what random people on the street think when they see us together, but- I don’t want to deliberately make people think that our relationship is merely friendship.”

Grinning, he pulls Alex close. “Okay, then.”

…

The polite knocking on the door refuses to stop, and Danny’s forced to concede his tactic of lying quietly and hoping the knocker will come to the conclusion no one is home is a lost cause.

Usually, he’d suspect the police, but not only do they verbally announce themselves, they are nowhere near as patient and polite.

There’s also the fact he hasn’t done anything worthy of their attention lately, but he imagines he’ll always be vaguely on their radar.

Grumbling, he gets up, stomps over, and opens the door with a glare.

An older woman placidly returns his gaze. “Hello. I’m Frances Turner. I’ve been told my son, Alistair, often spends his free time here.”

Seemingly as an afterthought, she adds, “It wasn’t my intent to disturb you, but there are pressing matters at hand.”

He stares numbly at her.

Not only does she have Alex’s eyes and hair, her words, tone, and poise-

Alex never lies, and he said his parents were dead.

Adoption?

No, they have the same surname.

Circumstances made Alex think his mother was dead, and now, she’s here to clear up the horrible misunderstanding?

Then, it hits him he’s ignored the knocking of his boyfriend’s mother before finally opening the door in nothing but a ratty t-shirt and boxers, glared at her, and then, stared at her.

Alistair?

Feeling sick to his stomach, he moves aside and manages to get out, “Please, come in, Mrs Turner. This is going to- I was under the impression you weren’t part of Alex’s life.”

“Unfortunately, we’ve never been very close. I only heard about you recently. And not from him, I might add.”

Closing the door, he thinks, If that’s supposed to be a shot, try harder. As long as he doesn’t go around telling people _I’m_ dead, I reckon I’m ahead of you.

“Um, please, sit down. Would you like something to eat or drink?”

“No, thank you. I simply need to see my son.”

“Right, I’ll call him.”

She nods.

…

He’s just finished changing when he hears the door being opened.

Rushing out, he finds Alex looking at Frances with a subtle whirlwind of emotions. “Frances.”

She stands. “Hello, Alistair. I need to speak to you immediately.”

Alex looks at Danny, and Danny sees the apologetic guilt and fear.

“We can talk later,” he says. “Um, it’s a bit hot out right now. Why don’t you and your mum stay here, and I’ll go to Scottie’s?”

“I didn’t come to drive you out of your own flat,” Frances says. “We can-”

“No,” he insists. “Stay here. We have stuff to drink and food. Just make yourself at home. Alex, call me later, yeah?”

Alex gives a miserable nod.

He hesitates a minute before walking over and giving Alex a quick kiss. “Later, yeah?”

…

“It’s just, never mind that I wondered if he was even _capable_ of lying, the thing that’s even worse than the fact he has lied is, I can’t figure out why he’d lie about this. Of all things, this is it? ‘I’m not close to my mum, we don’t or hardly ever speak,’ would have been so simple. I’ve told him all about my parents. I would have understood that, and I wouldn’t have pushed. And then, when his mum came ‘round my flat, I’m pretty sure I would have handled it better if I weren’t trying to work out how it was that she was alive.”

He slumps down into the couch.

Scottie gives him a sympathetic look. “As horrible as this may sound, perhaps, he wished she were dead.”

“I don’t think so. But even if he did, would he really find that too horrible to tell me? He was there that night and the morning after, he’s heard all the stories about the bad choices I’ve made in men, he knows what I think of my own parents.”

“I’m afraid I don’t have the answers to give you,” Scottie says. “Feel free to stay the night. There’s food in the kitchen.”

“Thanks, Scottie.”

…

On a park bench, Frances comments, “He thought I was dead.”

“Yes.”

She studies him. “He has plenty of conviction, I see, but not much ambition.”

“Why are you here, Frances?”

“Did you have a check run on him?”

“I won’t discuss him with you.”

She sighs. “He’s part of the reason I’m here, Alistair.”

He looks over at her. “I won’t stop seeing him. Unless he breaks up with me because of you. I will try to prevent that.”

“I’m not here to tamper with your relationship,” she says. “Although, it seems you did that well enough on your own by lying about my very state of existence. I’m here because my son has been in a relationship I’ve known nothing about with a person I know nothing about for I don’t know how long.”

“It’s an insult to both us for you to pretend you haven’t run a background check yourself.”

“Why, Alistair? Why would you hide this from me?”

He doesn’t respond.

“I made you unhappy when you were growing up. I realise this, now. However, that doesn’t negate the love I feel for you. In addition, it doesn’t stop me from worrying about you. It seems he shares your feelings. Whatever his faults, he’s not likely to hurt you. Nevertheless, you were so young and so inexperienced- in many ways, you still are. What if someone bad had gotten a hold of you? Would you have reached out, or would I found out my son was hurt or worse in some other way?”

Quietly, he replies, “You knew it, then. You worry about how I reflect on you. How my actions do. I told him you were dead because the dead can’t hurt him.” He looks straight into her eyes. “If you try to hurt him, I will destroy you. I won’t want to. I won’t get any pleasure from doing so. But I will. We both know I can.”

“And,” he finishes with great heaviness, “if it becomes a case of mutually assured destruction, I’m willing to accept that.”

She holds his eyes. “Alistair, listen to me: I do love you. As long as this boy makes you happy and treats you well, I’ll protect him the same way I would you.”

“Are we done?”

“For now,” she answers. “But I’m not giving up on repairing our relationship.”

He walks away.

…

Answering the door, Scottie immediately steps out and closes it. “He’s engrossed in some Japanese show his boss’s daughter emailed the warehouse about. Let’s walk, shall we?”

Alex nods.

“Both of you present yourself as largely apolitical. In your case, I can’t say if it’s true or not. In his case-, he doesn’t let himself think too much about espionage as a means of self-protection. He enjoys a good spy thriller as much as many young men do, and he vaguely understands that, sometimes, it’s necessary to find out what secrets other countries are hiding. However, everything from how some of that information is obtained to things such as domestic spying- well, if he had to accept those such things happen, he’d feel compelled to do something. And one of two things would happen: his precious heart would harden and lose so much of its preciousness, or it would completely break.”

“He’d disagree, but we both know your wrong-doing in this instance is that you got caught. If I had to guess about you, I’d say you’ve never been an 00. Therefore, I can more than understand why you’re an investment banker with inscrutable, old money bosses and colleagues. If something drastic happens to crumble that, it’s unlikely you yourself will be to blame. What neither he nor I can understand is why you didn’t prepare better for the possibility of your estranged mother showing up. That would strike any person with the least bit of common sense as far more likely than a massive leak or something along those lines.”

“Danny thought you might have been MI6 in your past,” Alex says.

Scottie shrugs. “The fact he can never keep straight the difference between 5 and 6 guarantees he doesn’t take his uncanny intuition seriously in that instance. To him, it’s a just a mildly interesting, fun theory he’s made up about his older friend. And if he ever finds out the truth, well, I’m sorry to be catty, dear boy, but _I_ never actually lied to him about it.”

Alex stops.

Scottie realises he has, turns, and walks back.

Looking closely at Scottie’s face, Alex inquires, “Have I lost him?”

Sighing, Scottie looks back at him for a long moment.

Finally, he hesitantly clasps Alex’s shoulder. “Most likely, no. I think there came a point when he expected most of the men from his past to hurt him. You- you were different. He honestly thought he was safe with you. Just like them, however, you hurting him isn’t unforgivable.”

Turning, he adds, “But don’t expect me to take your side. Just because we share a secret from him doesn’t mean I’ll place it or you over his emotional well-being.”

…

When they arrive at his flat, Danny sits down heavily at the table.

Looking up, he snaps, “Would you sit down? You hovering around isn’t helping.”

Complying, Alex says, “I’m sorry.”

He wipes at his tears. “I’ve never lied to you about anything. You know every bad thing from my past, and you know everything that goes on in my life now. I- You were so honest. That’s what I thought. I thought, ‘I’ll always know where I stand with him.’ But you know, maybe, you had a really good reason. I don’t know.”

Looking at Alex’s face, he says, “I thought about asking you, ‘Is this the only thing? Just this one thing? Have you ever lied to me about anything else?’”

He feels his stomach threaten to revolt when he reads the answer on Alex’s face, but he steels himself.

“But I’m not going to ask you.” Shuddering, he wipes even more furiously at his eyes. “Some teacher at school once had these quotes pinned on the wall about trust being like a mirror and a piece of paper. You can fix a broken mirror and uncrumble a paper, but they’ll never be the same. And they really stuck with me. I did lie a few times as a kid, as a teenager, and I’ve told a few lies as an adult, too. But when it comes to people I care about, trust is so important to me.”

Reaching over, he takes Alex’s hand. “So, I might be making one of the biggest mistakes I’ve ever made, but I’ve decided I’m going to keep trusting you. I’m not going to think about this every time you tell me something. If you want to explain, fine, but if you don’t, I won’t push. Because, for all those quotes stuck to me, I know now that the world is so much more complicated than that, and I’ve come across others since then.”

Alex looks at him. “I want to explain.”

Squeezing his hand, Danny says, “Then, do it.”

Alex practically curls into himself as much as the chair and table will allow, and Danny sighs. “But first, let’s get a little more comfortable.”

…

Still curled into himself, Alex leans against the headboard. “Frances could have done great things if she were given the opportunity. Yet, the time she grew up in punished her every time she tried. I was supposed to be the great thing she couldn’t be punished for. She didn’t treat me like other children, and she didn’t allow anyone else to, either. My job is because of her. It’s what she wanted me to do, what she secured for me.”

There’s silence for a long moment.

“She’s my mother. All my life, I’ve wanted to make her happy. I wanted to make her happy so badly that I didn’t care that I never was. Eventually, however, I realised- she doesn’t care about me. She doesn’t love me. All that mattered was what I could do for her. And I thought about just accepting it, but for once, I couldn’t. So, I cut contact with her.”

Alex gives him a soft look, and he feels everything bubbling inside him.

“Then, I met you. I knew what she’d think of you. I imagine she wouldn’t be happy with me engaging in any form of homosexuality, but if it were the right sort of man by her standards- but someone like you, never. And I know it was foolish of me, but I thought I could keep her away from you. I didn’t care what she thought; I just wanted to make sure she didn’t try to hurt you in order to try to make me give you up. I didn’t want her to try to convince you to give me up.”

“Her husband is alive,” Alex continues. “Legally, he’s my father. In truth, he told me when I was younger that Frances herself likely doesn’t know who my biological father is. It was just- easier to say he was dead, too, than try to explain I have no idea who or where he was. My full name is Alistair Turner, but I’ve always hated that name. At some point, my nanny started calling me ‘Alex’, and I decided, if I ever found people I cared about who cared about me, that was the name I wanted them to call me.”

“That part’s fine,” he says. “I’ve never told you my full name is Daniel Edward Holt. Most people, if they have a- not a nickname, but a name different from their birth one, it usually isn’t important they say so. They just tell people what their name is. ‘Cause, whether they choose it or their parents did, it’s still theirs.”

“And the other parts?”

He can hear the hope mixed with fear in Alex’s voice.

Moving over, he settles next to Alex. “I won’t lie and say that I’m happy with how you did it, but the fact you wanted to protect me- Thank you. Thank you for trying. It means a lot. From now on, though, if there’s something wrong, we tell each, and we work it out. Together. It’s not just you who’s supposed to protect me. In some ways, I can take care of myself just fine. And I want to help protect you.”

He feels Alex nod and snuggle closer.

“Now, is there anything else you want or need to tell me?”

“No.”

Something inside him stirs, but he simply pulls Alex closer and kisses him. “Alright.”

He closes his eyes, listens to Alex breathing, and lets the comfort and safety of feeling Alex steady against him wash over him.

He’d rather trust than not, and whether Alex wants to prove him right or not is Alex’s choice.

…

There’s a polite knock.

He considers calling Alex.

Instead, he gets dressed and opens the door.

Frances has a large potted plant sitting beside her, and her face briefly falls. “He slept here last night.”

“Yeah,” he acknowledges. “But there was some emergency at work. He left about an hour ago.”

She sighs. “I’ll just leave this here.”

“Look, why don’t you come in?” He moves aside. “We can talk for a bit.”

Giving him a small smile, she comes in.

Picking up the plant, he adds, “It really is lovely.”

A name, likely Latin, rolls off her tongue. “They help naturally purify the air and are very low maintenance.”

“Have you had breakfast?”

“Yes, but if you’d like to make some for yourself, I’ll have toast. Did my son eat before he left?”

“Usually, when emergencies happen, there’s a mate of his at work who brings him food.”

He’s only met her once, and based on the fake name she gave him, he thinks he accidentally gave the impression he was trying to hit on her. From what Alex says, though, she just doesn’t like anyone interfering with her concentration when she’s on her Blackberry.

After the food’s been made and they’re both at the table, he says, “I don’t know you. I’ve seen and heard enough that it’s a safe guess you have a ruthless side. As a rule, I try not to get on the bad side of people like you. But for Alex, I would. So, no games: If you’re here to hurt him or get him away from me, I might lose, but you can be sure I will go down fighting with everything I have. And let’s not pretend that we both won’t fight dirty.”

“I have a good idea of what Alistair has said about me,” she calmly replies. “How can I possibly defend myself?”

Something about her words strikes him as sincere.

“Tell me your side." At her look, he says, “I’ll listen. Obviously, I’m more inclined to take his side, but- I’ve screwed up badly in the past. The simple fact is, my parents never loved me. You seem to genuinely love him, and I know that people really can make a big change for a better. I also know it’s easier for them if someone’s willing to give them a chance, and since your son was one of the people willing to give me mine- if you want it, here’s yours.”

“Thank you.”

He nods.

She looks down, and he waits.

“I did try.” She looks up at him. “I wanted him to be happy. I wanted us to be close. I simply wanted other things more, or I couldn’t understand that those other things were fundamentally in conflict with that.”

“You can’t walk along the edge of an abyss for long. You either step into it or step back from it. I won’t go into detail about the behaviour I once engaged in, but Alistair was my step back from it. A genius son, someone who could do everything I was denied the chance to do- I was so focused on that, I neglected the sweet little boy standing right there.”

Shaking her head, she tells him, “He did love me. Part of me will always be a selfish, perhaps somewhat narcissistic person. There are certain things people simply can’t change about themselves even if they can change everything else. Well, one day, I realised that boy who offered all that love was gone, and so was the love.”

“Nevertheless, just because he stopped loving me, I can never stop loving him. Alistair, Alex, whatever name he chooses to go by, he is my son. Whatever kind of mother I was, I will always be his mother. I am always going to worry about him and want him to be happy. If I could just get him to let me-”

“I don’t want you to mistake my words. This isn’t homophobia on my part. Do you understand?”

He nods.

“No, I didn’t help matters, but my son is a naturally shy person. He often takes things literally, and he’s always had difficulty in understanding people. I don’t know about now, but when he was younger, he often had little interest in even trying. I shouldn’t have encouraged that, but I did."

"So, this young, gentle boy with little experience of how truly cruel and dangerous people can be in this world- he ends up a with a man who’s done drugs, had unsafe sex, and until recently, has been unable to hold down a job. Oh, yes, I did do a background check on you.”

“That doesn’t surprise me at all,” he replies.

“I see now there isn’t a cruel bone in your body. You aren’t taking advantage of him. The thought of a woman I don’t know taking up with him fills me with similar dread, but in complete honesty, yes, with a man, the dread is slightly elevated. Men are the primary rapists, sexual abusers, and ones who hit. Alistair is a strong and healthy, and I have little faith in his ability to defend himself from a physical attack. As established, he is the type of person others could potentially manipulate into doing things he doesn’t want, things that hurt him, things that he will forever regret.”

“Look at his relationship with me, after all,” she concludes with incredible bitterness.

“Right,” he says. “First, he does still love you. If you honestly can’t, if you honestly don’t, see that, then, I’m not sure what that says about you, but he does. When it comes to the other things, you want to protect him. You want to be part of his life again. That could be fine, but- if plan to find him someone better than me, then, get ready to fight, Frances.”

“I’ve had a lot of one night stands. I’ve done a lot of drugs. One night, I was so wired, I posted an ad online, and a lot of different people came over, and we did a lot of things, some very unsafe. Until this job, I never had one that lasted for more than three months. I haven’t read many books or travelled to many places. My first thought about the plant was that it looked nice.”

“I also love your son. He is my best friend. I’ve never cheated on him, and just in case you’re wondering, I’ll go further and say that, since we got together, he’s the only person I’ve been with at all. We were always safe and got regular check-ups when we first started. And when we decided to stop being so safe, I insisted we keep getting the check-ups, because, if something from my past does somehow come back, I want to know as soon as possible, for his sake.”

“I still smoke and drink, but I’ve been clean since before I started seeing him. The last time I got drunk was before, too. I’m hoping, someday, we can get a nicer flat or even a house together, something that will be ours, and I know he’d probably pay more than me, but I don’t want him to support me. Unless something better comes along or something bad happens, my job suits me well enough. I’ll stick with it.”

“You could find someone who’s better than me in every way,” he finishes, “but I’ll fight you. The only thing that will make me leave is if Alex decides on his own that he’s done with me.”

She nods. “I’ll tell you the same thing I told him: As long you make him happy and treat him the way he deserves, I’ll protect you both.”

“I’ll talk to him,” he says. “I won’t push, though. If there is any hope, you need to give it time.”

“Thank you. Truly.”

…

Alex kisses him when he gets home. “There’s a plant.”

“Oh, yeah, that would be your mum. I was wondering how to ease into it, but can we talk about her?”

Alex picks up the plant. “What did she do?”

“Hey, no, we’re keeping it. Unless you absolutely hate it, I mean. She didn’t-”

Alex continues walking. “It’s not staying.”

“Er, alright,” he agrees.

…

Once the plant has been put with the rubbish bins, Alex says, “Let’s go for a walk.”

“Okay."

“Where all did she go once she was inside?”

Reaching over, he takes Alex’s hand and tugs.

When Alex looks over, Danny promises, “I wouldn’t let her go through your stuff. She stayed at the table the whole time. I promise.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just-”

“I understand. Look, I’m not exactly sure what to make of her, but I do believe she loves you. Whatever your reasons, if you decide not to see her, then, fine, that’s done. I won’t bring her up again. Just, let me say: You love her. If she really wants to make things right, maybe giving her a chance would be good for both of you. Look at me.”

“You’re nothing like her.”

“I was self-destructive and going nowhere fast, though,” he points out. “And most people, when they found out about my past, never mind having been there during some of it, they would have walked. And I couldn’t really blame them, but- My point is, if you can forgive the bad things she’s done and give her a chance, she might truly make the most of it.”

Smiling, he leans over to kiss Alex. “Most of all, though, I want you to be happy and feel safe.”

They keep walking until they come to bridge.

“I’ll talk to her,” Alex quietly says. “But I don’t want her coming in your flat.”

“I understand.”

…

Opening the hotel door, Frances smiles. “Alistair. Thank you for seeing me.”

“I don’t want you near Danny’s flat.”

“Right, of course. Would you like to come in?”

“No.”

“I’ll get my coat, and we’ll go for a walk, then.”

…

“You have to know by now that I didn’t bug it.”

“I do.”

She sighs. “You’re only here because of him, aren’t you?”

“I could say the same of you.”

“He’s part of the reason, yes, but he’s also an excuse. I’ve seen that he isn’t threat to you. Now, if you’d allow me, I’d just like to be part of your life, again.”

“You’ve seen that he isn’t a threat to the circus or national security itself.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Tell me, Alistair. What have I asked of you recently?”

“I haven’t given you an opportunity. I spent four months on wrangler duty because of you.”

“Is that what this is about?”

“No. That was simply the last.”

She looks down at her nails. “I’m aware I’m not likely going to help myself by saying this, but: What are the odds you would have met him if I hadn’t?”

Tensing, he looks over.

Shaking her head, she says, “Of course, I’ve put the pieces together, Alistair. After he posted that ad, he was taken to hospital by you and a Mister Miller. If you want to report me, so be it, but I looked at the charges on your account. A taxi from his flat to Mister Miller’s. A taxi from the hospital to your flat.”

He simply continues looking at her.

Cupping his cheek, she says, “I know he didn’t hurt you, but if any of the other people there did-”

“I didn’t participate. No one did anything to me.”

“And you’d tell me honestly?”

“Yes,” he answers.

“That’s something, at least.”

They resume walking.

“I know you’ve heard this many times before, but I thought I was helping you. Getting you on wrangler duty truly was more about you than me, Alistair. A new set of people to work with, an idea of what the world was like beyond numbers- Not a particularly pleasant representation, I’ll admit, but a better grasp on people, nonetheless.”

“If you don’t have something you want me to do, I don’t understand why you’re here,” he says. “Your strength lies in people, not mathematics. We don’t enjoy the same things. All we ever talked about is work, and if you can get my account information, you can gain access to my reports. I’m very meticulous in them.”

“And none of that can change? Your boyfriend isn’t a mathematical genius, either. You and he are vastly different people, and I know you’d never break confidentiality with the circus. I’m assuming you and he manage to talk and enjoy one another’s company, regardless. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. Tell me about him, tell me about how badly I made you feel when you were younger, tell me what all you thought about during your morning jog. Just, please, let me in. Perhaps, eventually, you’ll let me talk to him some more, so that I can truly know the person who’s captured your heart.”

“Everything I know about you tells me that you must have a deeper motive.”

She shrugs. “When I was eight, I dreamed of being a ballerina. I was nineteen when I lost my virginity. It wasn’t to Charles. When you were nine and caught chicken pox, I found myself in a church for the first time since I was fifteen. Did you know any of that?”

He looks at her in surprise. “No.”

“For a long time, I focused more on your intellect than anything else. I regret that. Most people never fully realise their parents are people. That’s fine. I don’t mind being the cold mother who tried to turn her child into her redemption, if it means you’ll still talk to me. If you want to know anything about me, just ask. I’ll tell you, Alistair.”

“And you’ll stay away from Danny?”

“Yes,” she promises.

“I’ll talk to you. You can schedule our meetings. But if you go near him, if you try to contact him or interfere in his life in anyway, I will take more drastic steps to see you permanently out of my life.”

…

“How are things going between Alex and his mother?”

Danny frowns. “I’m not sure. Alex seems okay when he comes back, but he won’t really talk about it. I don’t want to push, but- I wish he would.”

“Relationships with one’s parents can be complicated,” Scottie offers. “She’s invited, by the way, to the surprise party you’ve unsuccessfully been attempting to organise.”

Making a noise, Danny glares. “I know the answer is only going to make things worse, but: When? How? What?”

Shaking his head, Scottie gives him a small smile. “Maybe another year.”

“I’ll get Alex to do it,” he decides. “That’s where I went wrong. He offered, but I said no.”

Scottie pats his hand.

“Well, now that you know, you can give me a proper list of people to invite. You’re having a party,” he insists.

Shortly after that night, Scottie had a birthday and neglected to tell him.

He and Scottie still disagree on whether or not he should have known and or even just been told.

“In that case, an old friend of mine will be attending. Her name’s Claire,” Scottie says.

…

When Claire and Danny start dancing, Alex extracts Frances from her conversation with Scottie.

“Alistair, is something-”

“There are missing pieces,” he announces. “I knew you and she knew one another, but she knows Scottie. So do you. What am I missing?”

“It’s okay,” she softly says. “Yes, Daniel realised too- beyond being able to read people, he really does have a remarkable intuition. But he believes in such remarkable-”

“Frances,” he interrupts with a slight edge to his tone. “This isn’t about him. There’s something important between the three of you.”

Smiling, she takes his hand. “Yes, there’s a complicated history between us. Most of us it is personal rather than political. Alistair, I promise, if you want to know later, I’ll tell you. Right now, however, your boyfriend is uneasily watching us. Go dance with him. Enjoy the party. It’s for the best.”

He stares at her for a long moment before complying.

…

Sitting down, Claire smiles politely at Frances. “The past is past?”

“The past is past,” Frances agrees. “I heard about your presidency. Congratulations.”

“Thank you. You’ve been staying in London for the past few months?”

Frances nods. “It’s easier than travelling back and forth.”

“You were brilliant at psychology.” Claire hands her a card. “I can’t give you an official position, of course, but I know how idleness grates on you. I could use someone like you at the university. Nothing near as exciting as what we used to do, but I think it might be a good fit for you.”

“Thank you.”

…

“A toast,” Scottie says. Raising he glass, he nods to Danny. “To Danny, of course, for organising this. But also to friendship,” he smiles at Claire, “new and old.” He looks at Danny and Alex, “Young love.” He finishes, “And to the future.”

“To the future,” everyone echoes and clinks glasses.

Frances watches Danny and Alex share a kiss.

…

During their morning walk, Frances locks her arm through Alex’s. “You know how much I enjoy our walks, but I was wondering if you’d mind if we got some ice-cream? That cake has awakened something of a sweet tooth in me.”

Surprise briefly flashes over his face, but he nods. “Of course.”

They go to an ice-cream parlour, and she orders a small dish of vanilla ice-cream and a cup of coffee.

Handing the cashier some money as she’s taking out her wallet, Alex says, “A Jasmine green tea with lemon, please.”

After they get their orders, he leads her over to a table.

“Thank you.” She smiles.

“Are you going to tell me how the three of you know one another?”

“Scottie and Claire used to live with one another. They presented themselves as lovers. Claire was never officially part of the business, but she’s a brilliant woman, and with her closeness to Scottie, she knew. As Mister Guillam has told you, times weren’t easy for people like you and him and Scottie back then. While Guillam’s Control was trying to weed out actual threats, there were those trying to weed out so-called deviants.”

She pauses. “I knew what Scottie was as soon as I met him, but I need you to believe me: I never used that against him.”

“I believe you.”

Giving him a sad smile, she says, “Unfortunately, Claire didn’t. He was found out, and he just barely managed to get out with his life intact. His reputation wasn’t exactly ruined, but neither was it what it once was. Claire became convinced, and I’ll admit, she did have some compelling reasons, to believe I had played a part. The very sweet, mostly timid woman you know is real, but when the chips are down, she can be a force of nature. And that angry force of nature went after me with everything she could.”

Tilting his head, he says, “And yet, you let her be part of my schooling."

“Yes. Her anger being misdirected didn’t make it any less righteous. We met soon after you turned fifteen, and she promised me, whatever her feelings towards me, she would never go after a young boy. If I hadn’t believed her, you would have gone elsewhere.”

“She believes the truth now?”

“Yes. During your time there, she and I occasionally met, and eventually, we parted on better terms.”

He nods.

“Dangerous ground, but could I ask you something about you and Daniel?”

“Yes.”

“You love him.”

“Yes.”

“And surely, you know he loves you.”

He doesn’t respond.

“Why haven’t the two of you said the words to one another?”

“He has said them,” he answers. “I’m not sure he’s aware he has, however.”

“Ah.” After a moment, she asks, “And him saying it in the throes of lovemaking is an obstacle somehow?”

“No.”

“Alistair, please,” she coaxes.

“I don’t think you’d understand.”

“I could try.”

“Honesty is one of the most important things to him.”

“Yes, I’m aware. I’m sure most people who spend only a small amount of time in his presence could work that out.”

“And every day, I lie to him.”

She frowns.

“Him being angry and hurt- I don’t want to be the cause of that, but I know he’d eventually be okay.” He looks away. “Him questioning whether I love him- if I tell him, and someday, the lies come out, he might question it. I think he knows, but I’d rather he not than tell him and have him not believe me.”

“Why did you originally tell him you were working for an investment banker?”

“It was only supposed to be a cover for a stranger. I was never supposed to see him again, and when I did, it wasn’t until we were sitting on the beach in the moonlight that I realised-” He stops.

“Okay.” She strokes his fingers with hers. “There’s always a way to extract yourself, Alistair. Eventually, the circus realised how unfair this situation was to both its members and their loved ones. You’d have to be very careful, of course, but you can tell him. I could help you explain.”

He looks over with hopeful eyes.

Nodding, she gives him a gentle smile.

He smiles back.

She looks down. “This might not be a permanent solution, however. He forgave you for your lie about me, and I’m certain he’d forgive you this, too. Yet, perhaps, you could do more.”

“More?”

“You could leave it,” she suggests. “Find a civilian job, and then, tell him what you used to be. Let him know that, now, you truly never will have any more secrets from him. You’ll be able to tell him absolutely anything, aside from some of your past work.”

“Leave,” he repeats.

“Yes. We both know I’m a large part of the reason you joined. I always told you that you could do anything. Well, now, I truly mean it. What do you want more than anything, Alistair? What would make you happy with your life?”

“I’m happy with Danny.”

“Yes, but you could be happier. What would give you that?”

He considers the question.

“Numbers. Helping people,” he answers. “I do that now.”

“There are so many options that are better suited for you. I could help you explore them.”

“You did everything to get me in,” he points out.

“Yes, and I very nearly lost my son. If not for Danny, I likely would have.” She sighs. “You’re not like us, Alistair. You’ve never made a mistake so colossal it threatens to damn you. Some people don’t realise they’ve made such a mistake or how bad until they’re already irrevocably outside any hope of salvation. And some people do realise, and they have to decide whether they’re going to fight for that salvation or let themselves be damned. He convinced you to give me a chance. Do you remember I once told you I’d protect him just as much as I would you?”

Alex nods.

“Let me help you. All I want is to see you happy. Moreover, in doing this, I can also thank him. You and he can be happy together, Alistair. You don’t have to spend your time with him worrying about how badly it might end.”

Squeezing her hand, Alex looks her in the eyes. “I love you. I was hurt, and I might have been angry. But you do know I love you, don’t you?”

She gasps, gets up so quickly she almost knocks over her dish, and hugs him.

…

Hearing Alex come in, Danny calls from the bathroom, “We need more eggs! Sara came around, and she and Pavel needed them for something I got the feeling I probably didn’t want to know about!”

He met Sara when he was trying to find some suitable flowers for a work mate’s party, and she brought her flatmate, Pavel, around when he invited her over. They’re good people, even if Pavel thinks Alex is ‘duller than paint drying’ and Sara has the same tendency to go for the wrong sort of men he used to have.

He’s already given her a key and told her, if she ever needs to go somewhere besides her flat for a few days, she can kip on the couch.

Coming out, he kisses Alex. “Hey, how was your walk with Frances?”

“It was good,” Alex answers. “I’m not sure how you’ll feel, but I’m going to give notice and find a different job.”

Trying to keep his surprise under control, he takes in the tenseness of Alex’s body.

“If that’s what you want, that’s great. I’m sure there are loads of people who are going to want you.”

Alex’s body relaxes.

Moving over, Danny wraps his arms around him. “Why were you afraid of my reaction?”

“I thought I’d have this job until I died.”

“What made you decide for a change?”

“I don’t like most of the people I work with, and the work- it is necessary, but I’ve never got much satisfaction from it. I want to more directly help people and spend more time on my own personal research and theories.”

“Well,” Danny says, “I don’t mind if you’d rather not, but you’re probably going to have to give up your flat when you quit. You practically live here anyways, but if you want, we could make it official.”

“You wouldn’t mind?”

“No,” he assures him.

I’d love it, he thinks.

…

He tells Scottie, and Scottie’s quiet for a moment. “Good for him. He never gave the impression of being particularly enthused about his job. Numbers, yes, but not the job itself.”

“Yeah,” he agrees.

Scottie gives him a look. “Are you happy about this or not?”

“Of course, I’m happy. I just- Frances is a big part of the reason, and you know, I think it’s great that she and him are talking. She doesn’t seem like she has some big plan to get rid of me.”

“You don’t want to, but you can’t but suspect that she might, in fact, have some sort of plan.”

“People really can change for the better. Just because she was the one to get him this job- Obviously, I can’t go around to her hotel and ask her what her intentions are.”

“Why not?"

He groans.

Scottie declares, “Well, it’s either do that or simply accept things as they are. Try to be prepared for if she is.”

“Anyway,” he says, “we’re celebrating tomorrow night.”

“As much as I enjoy your company, I’ll pass,” Scottie answers. “To be honest, I’m not sure what the fuss is about. All his personal stuff is at yours, he sleeps there every night, he even has his post delivered there. The only time he uses the other flat is when a business associate stops over.  Is him not having an easy fall-back option what’s necessary to label it as ‘official’?”

He flinches.

Sighing, Scottie gives him a pained look. “I’m terribly sorry, Danny. That was-”

“I’m fine. Are you?”

“Yes,” Scottie answers. “I often get depressed after birthdays.”

“Were you-”

“The last few years have been better. Occasionally, it simply sneaks up on me.”

“Do you need me to stay over tonight? I could make-”

“Danny, you have a flat warming celebration to plan.”

“That can be rescheduled."

“No,” Scottie empathetically tells him. “Your loyalty is quite touching, but you aren’t going to play nursemaid for me. I promise you, this will quickly pass.”

“Will you call me if it gets bad? Will you tell me if you aren’t better in a few days? Look me in the eyes and promise, okay?”

Scottie does. “Now, go, be young and giddy, and if you do decide to confront your boyfriend’s mother, do it properly and cause a big scene.”

“I wouldn’t cause a scene,” he protests. “Or at least, I’d try not to.”

“There really is no hope for you in some things, is there,” Scottie responds with a dramatic sigh. “Very well. Then, find a way to nick her mobile or reset her TV to some foreign language. Do something worth hearing about, at least.”

He grins. “I promise.”

…

Agent A sits down beside Alex. “I’ve gotten official orders-”

Without looking up from his phone, Alex answers, “You’re not using Danny to get revenge on the newest 007.”

“But he looks so much like Q. All I have to do is rig his newest prototype, stash him in the flat you’re absolutely no longer using, and bring your boy in for a couple of hours. Just a pair of glasses, and-”

“Agent A,” Peter Guillam says, “I only feel it fair to warn you that, after M2’s brother pulled that stunt with the elephant, he’s on rather thin ice with keeping those deemed psychological liabilities in service. The former 007 saved your life. The current one has never even met you. You will not expose a civilian to the inner workings of our organisation and risk damage to one of our quartermaster’s just so you may punish an agent for a different agent doing a commendable deed. Now, if you have no other business with Mister Turner, then, Mister Turner, please come in.”

Agent A mutters something along the lines of, “damage of property… used to be punishable.”

Handing her his phone, Alex stands up.

…

Inside his office, Guillam comments, “If 007 hadn’t wiped her Blackberry and crushed it, she would have been dead.”

“Her priorities are unconventional, sir."

Giving a small shrug, Guillam waves towards a chair. “Sit.”

Once they both have, Guillam asks, “How may I help you, Mister Turner?”

“I realise, officially, I answer to Agent L4, but I’d rather go through you, sir." Setting a folder on the desk, he pushes it over. “My notice.”

Raising an eyebrow, Guillam opens the folder, lifts the set of keys and badge off, and quickly read the papers. Then, he smiles. “Good man. You’ve been a great asset, but you’ve never belonged. In a different time, I could have belonged. Perhaps, with more people like you and Mister Holt out in the world, this organisation will someday truly have all the people it needs to fully serve and protect monarch and country. I wish you great happiness, and of course, you and Danny will allow me to take the two of you out for one last meal before you leave.”

Alex nods.

“I’ll have this filed straight away,” Guillam continues. “There will several forms you’ll need to fill out, and a group of selected members will conduct an exiting interview. The badge I can see, but the keys?”

“I’ve already moved all of my personal belongings to Danny’s. I’ll be living there for the foreseeable future.”

“Of course." He stands, and Alex follows suit.

They shake hands, and Alex says, “Thank you, sir. For everything.”

Guillam clasps his shoulder. “When you tell him, he might not react very well, at first. Many civilians don’t. Be prepared for that.”

“Do you have any other advice?”

“When you get ready to tell him, if it doesn’t just flow out, you’ll likely be terrified and unsure of yourself and him and everything, really. Every reason you shouldn’t might run through your head, and some of them will seem inarguable. Tell him, anyway. He’s gone and burrowed his way into your heart, and no matter what happens, you’ll never completely be able to remove him, so, you might as well just tell him. Love isn’t a battle, but if it was, you’d’ve already lost.”

“Thank you,” Alex repeats.

Guillam squeezes his shoulder.

…

Outside the office, Agent A tosses Alex’s phone back. “I accept that I can’t utilise Q’s doppelgänger, but I don’t accept that your maths passwords are unhackable. Wherever you go, I will find you, and if I have to invoke certain acts to get you to hand over your laptop, I will.”

“Understood.” He hesitates for a moment. “You were one of the few I didn’t mind working with.”

“That would mean more if you didn’t take everyone else’s side in regards to 007." Giving him a small smile, she says, “But all the same, I found you preferable to most of the others, too.”

…

“Scottie, it’s been days,” Danny tells the voicemail. “I know you’re still alive, at least, but I don’t know anything else. Either call me tonight, or I’m coming around.”

Alex comes in.

“I mean it,” he adds. “Alright, just call me. Please.”

Hanging up, he asks, “Hey, all done?” At Alex’s nod, he kisses him. “That’s brilliant, and I don’t want you to think I’m not excited, but I’m really getting worried about Scottie. So, if I seem off, that’s the only reason, I promise.”

“I need to tell you something.”

Danny has the sudden feeling his day is about to get worse.

“Okay. Sit down, and I’ll get us some juice.”

Checking fridge, he finds there’s about a swallow of juice left.

“I’ll make us some coffee or tea,” he amends.

Sara absolutely can’t stand coffee, and in something Danny didn’t even think was possible, Pavel is allergic to tea, and so, he’s desperately hoping, they will, in fact, have one or both of those aforementioned drinks.

Otherwise, it’s either going to be an emergency grocery run or boiling water until Saturday.

Finding both, he sighs.

Once it’s made, he sets a mug down in front of Alex and sits down. Smiling, he asks, “What is it?”

“I was MI6.”

He almost asks if Alex is joking before remembering, no, Alex’s sense of humour (which, contrary to what Pavel says, he does have) doesn’t run in such a way.

He vaguely hears Alex quietly explaining.

Scottie seemed fine after his birthday, he thinks. It wasn’t until I told him about Alex quitting- only, I thought it was me making a big deal about him officially moving in that irritated him.

“I wasn’t an agent,” Alex says.

Even if Scottie were former MI-whatever, why would he care about Alex leaving? Alex isn’t afraid of anything bad happening to him.

“And I promise, I’ve never invaded your privacy,” Alex assures him, and there’s something almost desperate in the tone. If Danny’s thoughts would just slow down, he’d comfort Alex, indicate he understands.

“Your ad did show up when I was on wrangler duty- that’s… But I didn’t come to further surveillance. The ad was excised from my final report along with all the other extraneous information. I simply came because I was curious.”

Whatever Scottie was or wasn’t, he works in Whitehall, now, he realises. Didn’t he once brag he could recognise a spook by their walk?

Not sure if that applies literally, because, surely, there must be ones in wheelchairs and the like, but- _Says he works for investment bankers. Wouldn’t give me his name. I suppose that’s understandable, considering._

“Danny, are you listening?”

Alex’s quiet, soft voice brings him back.

“Yeah. Um, sort of,” he admits. “It shouldn’t have taken me this long to figure it out. Scottie knew what you were, and when I told him you were leaving, he must of known or, at least, guessed that you were going to tell me soon. That’s why he’s been withdrawing and so tetchy, lately. He was afraid of how I’d take it, him knowing and not telling me.”

“Go,” Alex says.

He jumps.

“To Scottie,” Alex clarifies. “Go check on him.”

“I can do that tomorrow. Okay, so, you were a spy, and now, you’re not. I’m not sure where to even begin, to be honest.”

“With Scottie. He’s your friend, and I do care about him. I’ll be here when you get back, or if you need help, call, and I’ll come.”

He hesitates. “I- this is important.”

“So’s he,” Alex says. Looking Danny in the eye, he adds, “I promise I understand.”

Sighing, he gets up and kisses Alex. “And I promise, if I weren’t genuinely worried, I’d be much more focused on you. I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

“Be safe,” Alex says.

…

Scottie’s refusing to answer the door, and Danny is just about to start screaming –you wanted a scene, Scottie, a vicious part of him thinks- before he remembers the key under the plant.

He’s still briefly tempted to go with the yelling bloody murder idea.

Inside, he calls, “Scottie, I’m sorry if I’m interrupting something private, but in fairness, I did warn you! Scottie?”

A chill begins to build up in him, and he finds himself almost praying as he begins checking rooms.

Finally, he gets to the bedroom, and he clutches his stomach and steadies himself before rushing over.

There’s an empty bottle of alcohol on the floor, and Scottie’s feet are on the bed. The rest of him is half on his chest and half on the floor.

Keeping his tone gentle, he asks, “Scottie?”

No wounds, he sees in relief.

Carefully, he gets Scottie properly on the bed.

Stirring, Scottie looks at him through narrowed eyes and slurs, “You’ll know soon enough. Are you real?”

“’Course I am,” he answers. “Scottie, I need you to focus. This is very important: Did you take any sort of pills?”

“It won’t matter, soon enough.”

“Scottie,” he says with as much patience as he can muster, “you don’t get to decide what does and doesn’t matter right now. You’re drunk. I’m not. Now, answer my questions, or I’ll call an ambulance.”

“You can be incredibly cruel.”

“Scottie, did you take any sort of pills?”

“Two aspirin.”

Okay, well that’s not good, he knows, but if that’s all, it shouldn’t be deadly. “Anything else?”

Scottie stares with glazed eyes.

Shaking him slightly, he insists, “Scottie, did you take any other pills?”

“No.”

“Are you sure? Do you promise?”

“Apparently, I only lie about the important things. It’ll be my downfall.”

Suddenly feeling a surge of exasperation, Danny retorts, “You can have your downfall when I’m dead, yeah? Until then, though- Where’s your phone?”

…

Guiding Scottie in, Danny says, “Please, tell me you have some money on you. We took a taxicab. Also, Scottie’s kipping on the couch, do we have any coffee left? I got him to drink some water, and I’ve brought some of his bottled, but _I’m_ going to need some coffee before this night is over.”

And please, don’t leave, he thinks. I know this is the sort of thing couples are supposed to talk about, and looking back, now, I see just inviting Sara and Pavel around without discussing it with you- but this is a crazy night, and I’m just barely managing to hold everything inside together.

He deposits Scottie on the couch.

Alex withdraws some money. “He should take the bed.” Pulling Danny closer, he quietly adds, “He can’t get out the window, and if he tries to leave via the door, we’ll know.”

“I know you two are talking about me!”

“I’ll go pay the driver,” Alex says.

“Yes,” Danny tells Scottie, “we were. You used to think I’d never find a decent man. I know you never said it, but don’t deny you used to think it. Well, I have, and because, he’s so good, he’s helping me to deal with _you_.”

He immediately feels guilty.

Sighing, he goes over and kneels down. “Look, Scottie, just rest, okay? We can talk about all of this tomorrow.”

…

The sun is shining brightly when he wakes up, and he’s all alone on the couch.

Groaning, he sits up and finds Scottie using Alex’s laptop. Closing it, Scottie gives him a sad, apologetic smile. “Don’t worry. He made sure I was stable enough, called you in sick, and went to get some more groceries. You really didn’t need to stay up all night.”

“I didn’t stay up all night,” he grumbles. Yawning, he asks, “How are you doing?”

“Better. More sorry than I can say for last night.”

Stretching, he goes to sits at the table. “When I took those drugs and invited all those people over, the next morning, he asked if there was anyone he could call, and I immediately thought of you. When you helped me, we became friends, but that isn’t all. It isn’t just that one thing.”

Scottie doesn’t respond.

“If he didn’t tell you, he told me. He was MI5. Or six. Point is, he worked for a spy organisation. He did some analyst work, but mostly, he was an accountant.”

Scottie laughs. “Only you would label a housekeeper as a mere accountant.”

Shrugging, he says, “What I don’t understand is why you got- It wasn’t your secret to tell. Bringing in matters of national security, it _really_   wasn’t yours to tell.”

Letting out a heavy sound, Scottie says, “You’ll be the first to say how important honesty is to you.”

“If he wasn’t good for me, you might not have told me that, but I know you would have tried to set me straight.” Taking Scottie’s hand, he says, “You once said nothing would ever change your good opinion of me, and I wondered how you could sound so certain about that. I understand, now. I don’t care whether you used to be a spook or not, I don’t care that you didn’t tell me about him, and I don’t even care that I still have a stomachache because of what you did last night. Mine’s never going to change of you, either.”

Leaning over, he kisses Scottie’s cheek. “I love you. I hope you know that. I hope you knew that. But I love you. Very much.”

…

Once Scottie is safely in Claire’s care, Danny suggests, “Let’s take an early weekend and go away.”

“Sure,” Alex agrees.

…

On a hill in front of a fire, he asks, “Did you leave because of me?”

“You were a factor,” Alex answers. “My decision to join was based on many things, but I knew even then it wasn’t what I really wanted. Frances suggested it would be better for you and me both if I quit.”

Alex looks over, and Danny’s breath catches. “If it weren’t for you, I’d likely still be there, lonely and unhappy and resigned to that.”

Danny kisses him. “I understand. Not entirely, but I understand enough. But no more secrets, now? I don’t care what you did with MI6 or 5, I just want to know, when it comes to now, when it comes to the future, would I be making the right choice in trusting you?”

“Yes,” Alex quickly answers. “I promise.”

“Okay. Just so you know, it’s not just you. I’m sure Scottie would have tried to keep me on track, but if it weren’t for you, I’d probably still be a bit lost and not handling it in the best way.”

Leaning against Alex, he looks up at the starry sky.

…

They’re lying in bed, and he looks over to see Alex has a thoughtful look on his face.

“What are you thinking?”

Alex looks over. “Say it again.”

“What are you thinking?”

“I love you,” Alex says.

Everything is suddenly warm and lovely.

“That night on the beach, you said that, to someone, you’d be everything they’d been missing. I couldn’t understand. It doesn’t make sense, still, but that’s what you are to me, and even though I can’t explain it, that’s what I am to you.”

“Yes,” he agrees. Linking his hand through Alex’s, he says, “I love you,” and kisses him. “I love you so very much.”

“And you’re happy?”

“More than you can imagine.”

“So am I.”

…

“I’m happy things are going so well for you and Danny,” Frances says. “If you want to find a job strictly on your own, I understand, but Charles has a friend who runs a non-profit company. Mainly, it has to do with helping people on welfare. They could use someone to help them find out how much funding they actually need and try to make sure the funding they do get isn’t misused. I could set up an interview, if you like.”

“How is Charles?”

She shrugs. “From what I understand, he’s still fine. The last time we talked, he complained most of the conversation about the new type of butter the cook used.”

“Why are you still married to him?”

Giving him a surprised look, she replies, “That’s an interesting question.”

“You don’t love him. He doesn’t love you. You haven’t lived with him for over six months, and when you did live with him, you might as well have been flatmates. Sara and Pavel are closer than I ever saw you and him.”

“Who?”

“Danny’s friends. They’re flatmates.”

“I was much the same when I was younger,” she says. “The difference was, I hadn’t yet learned pain, disappointment, and humiliation. I thought Charles was going to do great things, and I thought by marrying such a man, I could do great things, too. We talked of separating once, but soon after, you came. Even if he wasn’t an ideal father, I still thought it’d be better for you to have two married parents than a single mother. Especially since I wasn’t sure if I could compel him to help me support you.”

“Because, he’s not my biological father.”

She looks over.

“He told me he likely wasn’t. You know for sure.”

“No, he’s not,” she agrees. “Whatever you may think, I honestly don’t know, either. There was a very slim chance he might have been, and I had a test done. The other choices- well, one of them was married, and the others weren’t the sort I’d wish on anyone’s children, never mind my own.”

“I’ve never cared. I was simply curious if I was a link to him for you or not.”

“You were, when you were younger. Not anymore, no.”

“The world has changed,” he says. “You probably can’t do all the things you once dreamed of, but there’s still so much you could do. You saw that you didn’t need to live through me. You don’t need to stay married to him, either.”

“To put it bluntly, I’m old, Alistair. No one is going to want me, and I’m not up for the challenges trying to make it in this world alone would present.”

“You wouldn’t have accepted that from me,” he says. “You still wouldn’t.”

She smiles. “This is one of those times you only think you’re being clever, sweet boy. It sounds compelling, but there are key differences.”

“You could live with Danny and me. We’d help you out financially.”

“That’s the sort of thing you and he should discuss privately, not just offer up,” she advises.

“I don’t think so.”

They get to her hotel.

“I want you to be happy, Frances. Being happy for me doesn’t mean you are. And you never will be unless you take chances and change things.”

Sighing, he kisses his cheek.

…

They’re fixing breakfast when Alex says, “I offered to let Frances live with us.”

“Oh?” He looks over. “Is something wrong at the hotel? I don’t mind her having the bed, but in the summer, the best I can do is sleep with a t-shirt on. It’s just too hot to wear more when I don’t absolutely have to.”

“She said it was the sort of thing I should discuss with you before offering.”

“Well, I can see why she’d think that, but she’s wrong,” he says. “She’s your mum. If she needs something, we need to help her. Unless she hurts you, of course, in which case, she’s on her own.”

“There’s nothing wrong at the hotel. I think she’d be happier if she divorced Charles, but she isn’t willing to.”

“Your dad?”

Handing him a plate, Alex answers, “Only legally. He never had anything to do with me when I was small, and when I was older, the few conversations we had were often unpleasant. We never need to do anything for him.”

“Anything I can do?”

“No.” Alex accepts the now-full plate. “Are you sure I should call you when my interview is over? There’s a chance I won’t know whether I’ve gotten the job, and you’re not supposed to use your mobile during work hours.”

“Yes,” he insists. “I want you to call, and if my boss has anything to say, I’ll just try to politely remind him of the rash I got from those flowers for his son’s girlfriend. I swear, he picked those out hoping that she’d get sick, only, I’m the one who suffered for it.”

“Okay,” Alex agrees.

“Good.” Kissing him, Danny goes to set his plate down. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

…

Frances is walking down the street when three men suddenly surround her.

One of them points a knife and demands, “Give me your money, lady.”

She studies the three of them. “I don’t have any money on me. Please, be reasonable, and let me go.”

“We don’t believe you,” he says.

They advance.

…

The pounding on the door startles Danny.

He just barely opens it before Frances is slamming it shut. “Lock the door and call the police. Oh, dear, I didn’t mean to take this.”

There’s a knife in her hand, and it has a tiny bit of blood on it.

“Alex, get out here, now!” He yells.

Gently taking the knife, he sets it down. “Frances, sit down. Are you hurt? Can you tell me what happened?”

Dripping wet with a towel hastily wrapped around his waist, Alex appears.

“The door,” she insists. “Bar it. I don’t know if they followed, and I can’t risk Alistair’s safety.”

“Frances,” Alex says.

Her head snaps over.

Danny’s checks the door, and kneeling down in front of her, Alex says, “Frances, I need you to calmly tell me what happened.”

Keeping the phone close by, Danny starts making tea.

“These three hooligans who were very good at concealment surrounded me and demanded I hand over my money. Well, I didn’t have any money on me, and I told them so. They didn’t believe me, and-” She suddenly starts laughing.

“It’s alright,” Danny quickly assures Alex. “It’s just the adrenaline. Maybe a bit of shock setting in. Frances, here’s some orange juice. I know you don’t like it, but the tea won’t be ready for a few minutes, and it’ll take the same time to boil some plain water.”

Shaking, she takes a few small sips. “Is something wrong with your filter?”

Usually, whenever she joins them for breakfast, she has watered down apple juice, and he just now realises they’ve always had a glass ready for her and safe water on the standby by the time she comes over.

“No, but it can only do so much,” he answers.

She shakes her head. “I knew self-defence, but until that moment, I never- How did I manage to do all that?”

“What’s important is that you did manage to,” Alex says. “Frances, the knife has blood on it. Tell me what happened.”

“Oh, he did that to himself. He lunged, I moved, and he accidentally cut his arm. He dropped the knife, and I don’t know why, but I just grabbed it. Then, while one of them was busy trying to help him, I started to run. The other one grabbed me, and,” she moves her arm back so her elbow hits the couch, “I don’t think it will affect his long-term future fertility, but I imagine he won’t be able to comfortably attempt reproduction for a week or so.”

Laughing, Danny leans down to kiss her cheek.

…

After the police leave and Frances has drunk three glasses of the champagne they bought on their anniversary, they put her to bed.

The couch is barely big enough to sit on, and like last time, they end up with Alex curled on it as best he can and Danny lying on top of him.

“This neighbourhood is getting more unsafe,” Alex quietly notes.

“Yeah.” He takes a small breath. “I’ve been thinking. I have a bit of money saved up, and so do you. With your new job- What if we found a different place? Nothing too fancy, because, I will want to help out, but a safer neighbourhood, a place where we don’t need to boil the water, maybe two bedrooms for when someone sleeps over.”

Alex is quiet for a moment.

“I’d like that.”

Smiling, Danny kisses him. “Good. So, do you know how we should go about doing this?”

“I think so. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

…

At the hotel, Alex asks, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes,” Frances assures him. “I’m going to contact a solicitor and start the process of divorce.”

He looks at her in surprise, and she nods. “I hope nothing like last night ever happens again, but I will admit it did open my eyes. You were right. There’s still much I can do. I need to stop being resigned to my past and start trying to truly live.”

“Good. I’m happy for you. And Danny and I will help you, if you need or want it.”

…

“It’s about time,” Scottie announces.

“You know, there are people who have nothing. My flat has served me well."

“Be that as it may,” Scottie says in such a way it’s clear he still doesn’t believe it, “I’ll be happy to help you and Alex out. Do you know what price range you’re aiming for?”

“I’m leaving most of the maths to him.”

“A wise decision.”

He frowns.

Scottie shrugs. “I really am pleased for you. Just don’t move to far away, yes?”

“Of course not,” he says. “You’re going to make it to this flat warming party, right?”

“Yes,” Scottie softly answers. “I promise. And who knows, it might be a housewarming instead.”

…

“Alistair? Danny?”

In the kitchen, Danny pauses, stops cutting the mango up, and grabs his mobile.

Making his way towards Frances’s voice, he finds himself relieved when he sees Agent A is trying to hack Alex’s laptop. “It’s okay. She’s an old coworker of Alex’s. Hello, again.”

He hopes Frances reads an implication of _she was given a key_ , even though, actually, she wasn’t. He’d suggested maybe they should the first time he got up at midnight and found her drowning Alex’s laptop in the bathtub, but Alex had said it was best they just let her pick the lock.

She tosses him a bag full of his favourite pastries.

“Thank you. Any particular reason you’re around?”

She shrugs. “A superior is meeting someone, and I’m on probation, because, I failed to get 007 captured by the Chinese.”

“Yes, I’m sure their reaction would have been much different if you’d actually succeeded,” he can’t help but reply.

He still hasn’t figured out if she genuinely doesn’t register sarcasm or is simply excellent at ignoring it, but he’s ready to accept her nod and go back to the kitchen when he sees Frances eyeing her suspiciously and remembers, ‘Oh, yeah, most people don’t-’

“Is that my son’s laptop,” Frances coldly demands. “Are you trying to _hack_ it?”

Quickly, he pulls her out of the room. “Look, you can ask Alex, it’s fine,” he promises. “She’s been trying to beat his passwords since-”

“His passwords?” She tries to go back into the room. “I’ve told him over and over not to use mathematical formulations, most of them can be solved by a simply using a calculator!”

“Sh,” he hisses. Pulling her closer away from the room, he quietly explains, “He doesn’t care. He’s unlocked it himself whenever she’s asked. Yeah, she could use a calculator, but she doesn’t know that. He says that she’s developing valuable skills, and she probably is, but really- he’s just fond of her. She brings food, he lets her try to hack his stuff or just use it, and that’s their relationship. She used to be one of the few he had close to a friend, and I think he’s still one of the few for her.”

“Very well,” she says with her mouth in a thin line. “I still maintain he should protect his laptop better, however.”

He doesn’t answer. He believes a calculator could be used only because Alex told him it could, but some of the formulas look more like art drawings to him, and some of them seem to be comprised almost solely of letters. He actually did decent in maths during school and learned how to use a calculator for basic algebra and trigonometry, but he reckons it’d take a mathematician to even begin to understand how to enter Alex’s equations into a calculator.

…

Near the house, on a hill, Frances comes across a man sitting on a log with his umbrella leaning against a nearby tree. “Mister Holmes.”

Mycroft nods. “Mrs Turner.”

Sitting down next to him, she hands him her mobile.

He removes the battery. “Apologies for the location.”

“It’s quite beautiful tonight,” she replies. “Alistair is still working on his project. Do I need to take drastic measures to get him to stop?”

“No,” he answers. “He’s a private citizen, now. Oh, I’m sure there will be plenty of reeling if he should implement it, but if we started going after people like him, my little brother would be one of the first to fall. Whether certain people like it or not, the unconventional geniuses, the Van Goghs, the people who love them- they’re all extremely vital to society, even when they make our jobs incredibly difficult. Great care should be put into the decision of whether to let them be or not, and the decision to not shouldn’t be made lightly.”

She sighs.

“I do need to know, however, if he’s gained any knowledge of his brother.”

“No.” Giving him an alarmed look, she asks, “Is Young Charles okay?”

“He’s very well. In fact, he’s gotten an interview with the Kingsman.”

“Oh,” she scoffs. “Well, that’s not surprising. He’ll fit right in.”

“I do hope so. Yet, I need to ensure no more unexpected obstacles will impede his progress. Galahad’s newest protégé is another interesting contrast to the others.”

“It’s an old boys’, old money club,” is her blunt response. “Just because Arthur managed to claw his way so high doesn’t mean another estate trash hooligan will be able to do the same for a long while. Young Charles’s birth doesn’t matter; for all intents and purposes, he is just as blue as we are.”

“Some would describe your son’s partner as such.”

“Choosing the right partner is one of the most important things a person can do, and all by himself, my son managed to make one of the best choices he possibly could. The fact Daniel recognised this and choose Alistair back shows he couldn’t possibly fit such a description.”

“Hmm.” He looks over. “Charles isn’t a genius, but he is very intelligent and skilled. Even as a child, he was much more socially adept than Alistair ever was. He would have fit in well at MI6. Do you ever think you made the wrong choice?”

“No,” she promptly answers. “Never. Because, I never could have loved him, but Alistair- before I even fully realised how gifted he was, I looked at him, and I felt an immediate sense of affection for him. He has such a kind soul. When he led me through the maze and smiled up at me- it was the smile rather than his problem-solving skills that made me want to give him everything. I wish I’d paid more attention to that impulse.”

“We all make mistakes,” he comments. “It always gives me hope when I see others don’t have to keep paying for theirs. Perhaps, someday, I won’t have to kidnap Dr Watson every time I find there’s genuine cause to worry about my brother.”

He hands her mobile back, stands, and extends his hand.

She takes it.

He picks up his umbrella. “I’ll have Agent A retrieved. Mrs Turner.”

“Mister Holmes.”

… 

Everything is blue, and Danny feels out of place.

His stomach hurts, and for some reason, there’s an alien creature sitting in the corner.

Part of him is sure there shouldn’t be an alien creature.

He watches himself walk into the room, and he’s all drugged up, he can feel it, remember it.

There’s the ad on the computer, he’s seeing it, he’s seeing himself seeing it, and he can’t remember if he felt such hesitation, but he does, now.

 _If all my mistakes led me to you, maybe they aren't mistakes at all_ , he heard that once, and he and Scott both agreed it was a stupid quote. Just because good comes out of a mistake, that doesn’t stop it from being a mistake.

He’s all drugged up, sad, lonely, a little bit angry, just an all-around mess.

And he thinks, _For god’s sake, don’t do it, you stupid, little boy. You’ve had a few one-night stands, and you think you can handle sex like this? You really can’t. You use drugs and alcohol to try to make yourself think it’s special, and you don’t have any idea what’s really, truly special._

His hands are shaking, and he doesn’t really remember that, but it wouldn’t have been surprising.

He remembers, _I’d tell you that, instead of hoping the world will tell you who you are, you must tell the world who you are, but that might be somewhat counter-productive, seeing how I’d likely agree with the world more than you right now._

Teary-eyed, hands shaking, some part of this boy knows he’s about to make a mistake.

He kneels down, and they’re face-to-face. “Hey,” he says. “I’m still here. Good and bad things are going to happen to you. It’s only natural to want the good without the bad, but life doesn’t always work that way. I’m not going to yell at you, anymore. I’ve built a great life, and I can’t fully enjoy it while I’m busy being cross with and worrying about you. So, start building your own life. If it takes you making some bad choices along the way, that’s just life. The only thing that’ll stop you from correcting them is you, and I think we both know you better than that.”

Danny wakes up with a lurch in his stomach.

“Danny?”

Blinking, he feels the dream slipping from his grasp. Looking over, he sees Alex’s concerned face.

“Hey,” he croaks. Sitting up, he reaches over to the nightstand and takes a drink from his glass of water. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I don’t mind. Are you okay?”

Lying back down, he nods. “Just a weird dream. Can’t really remember it.” Snuggling closer to Alex, he links their hands together and looks at the two rings. “I can’t wait to tell everyone.”

“Me neither.” Alex kisses his head. “I love you.”

It’s just as warm and lovely as the first time, and he smiles. Tilting his head, he shares a kiss with Alex. “I love you, too.”

As he drifts back to sleep, he reflects he’d never truly understood how happy a person could be until now.

**Author's Note:**

> During the first scene with Mycroft, Agent A was intended to be Anthea. As I kept writing her, however, I began to wonder if her actions were in-character for the little bit of Anthea shown on Sherlock. Instead of scrapping or rewriting her, though, I found myself having fun with the dynamic between her and Alex and how, despite his canonical inability to relate and socialise with most people, he mostly just took her antics in stride. 
> 
> Therefore, if one reader sees her as Anthea and another sees her as an original character, both are right. 
> 
> As for her vendetta against 007, let me first say: They never had sex and/or a romantic relationship.
> 
> No, he really did wipe her Blackberry and crush it in order to save her life, and she will never, ever forgive this. In her slight defence, she was convinced there were other ways the situation could have been handled.
> 
> The fact she's not even going after the original agent who started her quest- due to Mycroft's protection, I imagine most just sorta go, 'We can't let her go too far, but letting her go after him will keep him on his toes, and if anyone needs to be kept on his toes...'


End file.
